


there is a future i wish for

by Rethira



Category: Tales of Xillia 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7955632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rethira/pseuds/Rethira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Julius in the photographs smiles out at Victor as the fire consumes him.</p><p>Victor lets himself weep, then. He does not expect to see Julius again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there is a future i wish for

**Author's Note:**

> for tumblr user [doctormagikarp](doctormagikarp.tumblr.com)!

When they’re dead, and Elle’s cried herself to sleep in his arms, Lu- _Victor_ picks himself up. He takes Elle back inside, changes her clothes and puts her to bed, and then goes to wash the blood off his arms. He doesn’t bother changing his clothes; they’re too blood stained to be saved, and there’s still work to be done.

All but one of the bodies end up in the lake.

 

(he pauses when he comes to julius. he cannot breathe for a moment. there are tears pricking at his eyes- but there is nothing left of _julius_ in this dead-eyed corpse. nothing left of the brother who loved him, even as he stood against him. in the end, it’s not so hard to send his body into the lake with the others)

 

He burns his photographs later. All of them. Every last one. He has to. Elle must not recognise Julius when she meets him.

The Julius in the photographs smiles out at Victor as the fire consumes him.

Victor lets himself weep, then. He does not expect to see Julius again.

 

Elle grows up to hate tomatoes.

 

The day Elle leaves, Victor settles in to wait. It won’t be long now.

 

But the first person to come through from the _real_ dimension isn’t Ludger. He still makes his way to Victor’s house, still knocks on the door – but it’s-

“Julius,” Victor says, and despises the way his voice cracks around it, like he’s still a _child_ , like Julius is still the person he loves the most-

Julius smiles. His eyes are gentle as daggers. “Oh Ludger,” and how Victor _shakes_ to hear that name again, in that tone, in that _voice_ , “what have you done to yourself?”

Victor wants to slam the door shut on him. This Julius (the _real_ Julius, the Julius that _should have been his_ ) has no _right_ to be here. _Ludger_ was meant to come here, Ludger and Elle and then- then-

“ _Don’t_ ,” Victor snaps, snarls, spits, “just _go_ ,” and he can’t stand to look at Julius’ face any more.

Julius doesn’t listen. He _never_ listens.

“Hey,” and his voice is still soft and warm and gentle, “I’m still your big brother. I’m not going to hurt you.”

As if _his_ Julius hadn’t. As if Julius _hadn’t_. Victor wants to throw those words back at him, wants to knock him down and throttle the life out of him, but-

But it’s _Julius._

The _real_ Julius.

He turns away instead. Retreats back inside.

After a moment, Julius follows him in.

 

Julius is quiet as Victor moves to the kitchen. He keeps a few careful feet away, and it’s still not enough to keep Victor’s hands from shaking. When he opens a cupboard and reaches for a glass, it’s an almost brutal shock to have Julius reach past him and take one instead.

“I can do it,” Julius says. “What did you want to drink?”

Victor twists away from him. “Just- water.” It’s unsettling, watching Julius fetch him a drink, _wrong_. Julius has been dead these past eight years, barely stepped foot in this house before that, and now he moves around it like it’s his _right_. Like he _belongs_ here. Like the last time Julius was here, he didn’t draw his swords on Victor.

“There now,” Julius murmurs, setting the full glass down in front of Victor. “Better?”

It hurts to look at him. Victor stares at the table instead. “Why did you come here?” He wraps his hands around the glass but doesn’t drink.

A little sad sigh escapes Julius. “I just wanted to make sure my little brother was okay.” He chuckles, self-deprecatingly. “Didn’t really work out the way I thought it would, this time.”

(he’s not the first, then. the real julius has probably seen lots of ludgers. dozens. hundreds. it shouldn’t hurt. it _won’t_ hurt. soon, victor will be the only one that matters)

A smile twists Victor’s lips. “You know what I am.”

 _That_ seems to hurt Julius – he flinches a little, enough that Victor looks up at him. So young. The same age he was when-

“You’re not the first,” Julius says, bleakly. Quietly. “Always hurts the worst when I meet you though.” His eyes go soft behind his glasses. The same expression the other Julius wore when he died.

And Victor wants-

 

(oh, so many things)

 

He sits in silence across from Julius. Victor’s heart is beating rabbit-fast in his chest.

(julius is the only person victor’s ever loved as much as elle)

“You lied,” Victor says, eventually, and despises the way his voice betrays him. Where is his composure? Why has it all fled? “You did hurt me.”

“Ah,” and Julius looks _agonised_ at that. “I’m sorry.” _He_ has nothing to apologise for. “I wondered… guess it doesn’t really matter anymore.” He reaches out and places his hand over Victor’s. “Sorry I put you through that. It’s never easy, killing someone you love.”

He’s so _earnest_. Gentle. _Weak_. The real Julius is _weak_ – why had Victor’s Julius been the one to try and stop him?

(what flaw is there in this dimension that makes them not _real_?)

“It was easy,” Victor tells him. “He hardly fought back.”

Julius’ hand lifts off of Victor’s, raises to his cheek. His thumb presses down over the edge of Victor’s mask. It takes every ounce of strength Victor has left in him not to lean into that hand – still so familiar, after all these years. Quietly, Julius asks, “If it was easy, why are you crying?”

The instant he says it, Victor is aware of it. He- No. No. It’s been years. Victor won’t cry again for someone who betrayed him. For someone who-

( _he’d been smiling at the end_ )

It’s an uncoordinated push that gets Julius _away_. Distance. It’s too much, too much having Julius here, looking at him with those kind, understanding eyes. No-one’s looked at Victor like that for years. Not since he killed-

Victor breathes out, and slowly raises his hands to his face. The mask comes away easily. Slowly. Even gone, it feels like he’s still wearing it.

(and isn’t he? the marks of the catalyst have spread and spread and spread. they will not stop. they will never stop)

This is the face Victor knows Julius sees when Victor turns around; half of it is surely familiar to him, but half of it is ruined and black. One red-pink eye hides behind Victor’s black hair. There is very little of the Ludger Julius knows left in Victor.

Even so, Julius reaches out again, brushing the hair from Victor’s face. He sighs, “Oh, _Ludger_ ,” and that name is _wrong_.

Ludger was a _failure_. Ludger let Elle die.

Victor won’t let that happen again.

“My name is _Victor_.”

Something clouds in Julius’ expression. “Victor then,” he says. He takes a step back, runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t do a very good job, did I?”

“With what?” Victor snaps.

Julius chuckles, harshly. “Protecting you. Here and back home, I’m not doing such a great job of it, am I?”

And that- “No,” Victor snaps, “no. You didn’t- you tried. Since it began-” And Julius’ pocket watch feels heavy against Victor’s chest. “You tried to keep me safe, Julius.”

“I still am,” Julius murmurs, and his hand curves delicately over Victor’s marred cheek. “And look at what it’s got you, and him.”

Victor flinches, can’t help it. “I did this myself, Julius. It was _my_ choice – you had nothing to do with it.” Not _this_ Julius, not _any_ Julius. “I have no regrets.”

Julius sighs a little. His hand drops from Victor’s face, and he carefully pulls his glove of. It isn’t so surprising to see that the same blackness that’s clawed its way across Victor’s face has taken Julius’ hand. “Me neither,” Julius agrees.

 

(julius touches him gently, like he’s something fragile or beloved. victor doesn’t push him away)

 

There are words lurking in Victor’s throat. He fights to swallow them back down. Julius cradles him gently against his chest, offering no more or less than he can give.

(he does not ask what victor plans, hardly seems to care with victor in front of him. would he, if victor told him everything?)

Victor is not young anymore. He’s… the same age as this Julius, probably. It’s strange to think about. Julius always seemed so much older. But he’s just- just the same as Victor is. _Exactly_ the same.

“I missed you,” Victor breathes out, and not a word of it is a lie. He’s missed the _real_ Julius so much. The Julius he should have been with from the very beginning. It’s impossible to keep them in. “I missed you, I’m sorry, I missed you so much, I love you,” Victor finds himself saying, burying his face against Julius’ chest, and Julius just murmurs softly and quietly, nonsense and comfort at once – _this_ Julius won’t betray him.

“I left you alone,” Julius whispers. “I should never have done that.”

“You’ve come back,” Victor asserts, and should hate the way he’s clinging, “it doesn’t matter anymore. Just. Don’t leave me again.”

Julius hushes him, stroking his hair. He’s warm and alive. Real. More real than anything in this dimension.

 

(it isn’t until later that victor realises julius _didn’t_ promise)

 

“This is all I kept of you,” Victor murmurs. Julius’ watch. It no longer works. The cover is scarred, the glass face cracked. “He… gave it to me,” Victor murmurs.

“Yes,” Julius agrees, looking down at the broken watch, his expression unreadable. He looks up abruptly into Victor’s eyes. “Let’s have dinner. Do you still make pasta margherita?”

 

(it’s a distraction, an obvious one. but… but victor _wants_ -)

 

They have to go to Drellin to buy tomatoes. “Elle hates them,” Victor explains, “but she likes having all her meals Elle-style.”

The look on Julius’ face is one Victor can hardly remember ever seeing before. “Does that mean I can get all mine Julius-style? With extra tomatoes?”

“ _No_ ,” Victor tells him, shoving his shoulder. “You’d eat nothing else if I did that.”

Julius laughs. “Worth a try.” He tries to steal a tomato from the bag Victor’s holding.

It’s normal to bat his hand away, to say, “Those are for _dinner_ ,” and laugh at the pouting expression he makes.

Victor’s heart aches. Soon. Soon all of this will be _his_ again.

 

(it should be wrong to shift so easily back to being brothers. but it doesn’t feel wrong. it doesn’t feel wrong at all)

 

Victor does make end up pasta margherita Julius-style. He feels ten years younger chopping tomatoes with Julius behind him, looking at the photos on the wall and murmuring quietly about how cute Elle looks. They’re going to be a family again when Elle comes back. Victor and Elle will be reborn as the real Ludger and Elle, and join Julius in the real dimension. It’s so close Victor can taste it.

“Tell me about her,” Victor asks, though if the real world played out like his Julius probably didn’t spend much time with her.

Julius hums thoughtfully, holding a picture – of Victor, Elle and Lara – in his hands. “She calls me Glasses Guy whenever we meet. She took to Rollo pretty quickly, from what I could tell.” His voice goes even softer than usual. “Ludger really loves her. I guess he doesn’t know why yet.”

Victor cuts a tomato savagely. “She’s Elle. That’s all the reason we need.”

“Ah,” and Victor can hear the smile in Julius’ voice now, “I understand.”

(victor imagines him saying, _you’re still_ ludger _. that’s all the reason i need_ )

“Yes,” Victor agrees. “Go and wash up. Dinner will be ready soon.”

 

It’s dark when Julius says, “Elle and Ludger won’t be far behind me. It won’t take them long to find you here.”

 _I want to be found_ , Victor doesn’t say. “I’ve missed her,” he admits, instead, curled against Julius’ chest. His Elle who isn’t quite real, but will be soon.

Julius kisses his forehead. “She’s missed you.” His arm is warm over Victor’s shoulders. He feels like home. He starts to hum, the same lullaby he always used to. The one he hummed when he died.

Victor smiles.

 _Ludger_ failed all those years ago. _Victor_ will not.

 

Julius is gone in the morning. Victor settles in to wait. It won’t be long now.

 

(the person julius loves most was always _ludger_ )


End file.
